


Who Pays For Our Choices?

by babybluecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9.09 alternate ending, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:58:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas/pseuds/babybluecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Theo didn't need Cas? What if Dean pushed Cas away one time too many?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Pays For Our Choices?

“Give me a quick death.”

“Oh, you wish, Castiel,” Theo answered, plunging the drill into his shoulder.

It bored through the meat and right through the bone, drawing an animal growl from Castiel’s throat. If he’d ever let himself believe that he was accustomed to pain, he was wrong. There were always new levels to be reached and Theo made damn sure he felt the entire gamut. Slicing, kicking, shuttering his bones to pieces, yet not letting him die. It’s astounding how much torment human body can stand before letting go of the consciousness.

It could be hours or days, Cas started to lose count. At last, he started blacking out, just to be abruptly woken up by another shot of immense pain, or by a slush of ice cold water, when he was lucky enough to pass out for good.

At first, he had hope that he would escape, somehow. The shackles were heavy, tightly wrapped around his wrists and ankles, sharp edges cutting into his skin. They didn’t need any sigils engraved on them. After all, Cas was but a human now. Yet he had hoped he’d find a way out until he heard the crack of his smashed kneecap – before he could even feel the pain. From then on, there was only the agony.

That’s what hell must be like, he thought, with the time stretching endlessly into months and years, reeking of blood and burned meat. Except he didn’t have anyone to save him. Theo was the only one who could save him. And one day, finally, he did.

 

Dean refused to believe the news at first. Mainly, because angels are dicks and they lie, and the one that served as the messenger would surely take extra pleasure in breaking the hunter like that. So Dean only clenched his fists to keep from giving anything away. Malachi’s minion made damn sure to share every detail on how badly Cas had suffered and how easy it had been to catch the stupid human, easier yet to crack him.

But even with Cas’s dead body laid out before him, Dean wouldn’t have acknowledged he was dead, because he had been dead so many times and he’d always ended up fine after that. Why would this time be any different?

Only this time was different. Because losing everything – Dean had it coming. As if Sam in the wind, hijacked by, for all he knew, Satan’s bff wasn’t bad enough. As if burning Kevin’s body on the outskirts of the town wasn’t bad enough.

He had bidden the poor guy farewell all alone, because neither of them had had anyone else, anymore. He’d given him a hunter’s funeral. Kevin’d deserved it. Watching the flames eat up the kid’s flesh, Dean had drunk himself nearly unconscious next to the fire.

And it was all on him, Sam and Kevin and now Cas, too. On his lies and on his “trust me” when he couldn’t even trust himself. For every mistake the others had made, he’d outdone them all. Even starting the Apocalypse didn’t seem as bad anymore.

Dean didn’t want to believe Cas was dead, but he did all the same – losing him was all there ever was. Hadn’t he pushed him away this one time too many… The grief shoot through his veins like acid, dissolved him alive from the inside.

“I almost forgot,” Wingless said, never breaking the smirk, “you know, sometimes when he was out of it, he’d keep mumbling your name.”

One of Dean’s clenched palms started to bleed, the other one fetched the blade. With no way to fight for those that he’d lived for, before his knees buckled underneath him, he threw himself at the angel with one thing in his mind. To kill the messenger.

  
  



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